You might be tempted to call Irvin a hipster. Fixed gear bike, a few cases of PBR, a spare bike frame mounted jauntily on a massive bike messenger bag, panther tattoo, over-sized gradual-tint glasses. I guess all he needs are some skinny jeans and a pork pie hat. Hmm. I was going to write something about how he's not a hipster at all. About how he is too old to be a hipster. Too frenetic. Too smart. Too out of touch with anything approaching a cultural acquiescence. Which he is. And he lives in Harlem. But maybe the pros outweigh the cons. Maybe, because some self righteous yahoo from some podunk cranial noplace might look at him and, with a spittle tinged proclamation, label him hipster, he is in fact a hipster. And then, once being referred to as hipster he loses half whatever credibility he may have had prior. The thought has crossed my mind. God damn. I just can't get with people like that.
More on Irvin here.